


WHEN MAKO MET JAMIE

by MorphoFan



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Roadrat Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9829796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorphoFan/pseuds/MorphoFan
Summary: For Roadrat Week Day 1, Favorite Canon InteractionMako "Roadhog" Ruteledge wasn't expecting his life to change that day.





	

Day 1 (19th)- Favorite Canon interaction

WHEN MAKO MET JAMIE

Accompanying Song  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EcXURC_nNhc

Mako "Roadhog" Ruteledge wasn't expecting his life to change that morning.

As he finished topping off the tank of his bike at the petrol station, wiping the dust from the lenses in his pig-snouted gas mask, it seemed like any other day in this abysmal wasteland he called home. 

He was just settling back into the saddle, ready to fire it up, when an alarmed cry met his ears. He glanced around in time to see a tall, but painfully-thin young man go pelting past him on foot. 

Nobody moved that fast, unless they were in a blind panic. Sure enough, a moment later, a half a dozen Junkers charged past, armed with pipes and chains, obviously in pursuit of the blond man.

Roadhog was a firm believer in minding his own business. However, he was also a firm objector to bullying, and if six large, armed, well-built men chasing down a half-starved, one-armed kid wasn't bullying, he didn't know what was.

He kickstarted his bike and started off in pursuit of the colorful gang. He passed the group of six easily, and in a matter of seconds, was coming up on the target of the bullies' attention.

The young man glanced back at the sound of the approaching bike, and he gave another yelp of alarm and fear, trying to run faster. As Roadhog came upon him, the kid turned to him and held his hand up pleadingly.

"No-no, don't, PLEASE... I can't... HEY!"

The rest of the gibbering rant was cut off as Roadhog grabbed the young man around his tiny waist and flopped him ungracefully side-saddle in front of him. He kept one arm tight around the smaller man's middle as he gunned the throttle, putting distance between himself and the gang.

"Hold on," he ordered. The kid wrapped his single arm around Roadhog's ample middle, clinging on for dear life. 

Soon the angry shouts of the gang were left far behind, and they were alone, travelling through the barren wasteland that was once the Australian outback. 

When Roadhog felt that he had traveled a safe distance, he pulled the bike off onto the shoulder, cut the motor, and dismounted. He stood beside the bike, folded his arms, and just eyed the skinny little Junker that now trembled before him on the bike.

"Why were they chasing you?" the big man demanded, "Are you a thief?"

"No!" the boy replied, then grimaced a little.

"Well, yeh, I AM a thief, but I didn't steal anything from THEM!" he pointed.

"So why were they chasing you, then?" Ruteledge reiterated, stepping closer.

"They want something I have," the blond Junker whimpered, raising his arm defensively, as if expecting to be struck.

Roadhog realized that he was scaring the younger man, and he backed off a bit. At times, he forgot how imposing he was, in size alone. The poor kid was frightened enough.

"Don't be afraid," he said softly, holding up a hand, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"P-promise?" the smaller man asked warily, his large amber eyes wide.

"Promise," the hulk of a man chuckled, "Tell me what's going on."

"Well," the smaller man began, "Remember when the Omnium went kablooie all them years ago?"

About thirty minutes later, both the men were seated in a bit of shade against an outcropping of rock, and the blond Junker, whose name was Jamison Fawkes, was wrapping up his story.

"And I made the COLOSSAL mistake of shooting my mouth off about this amazing discovery," he lamented, "And word got 'round, and now every man and his dog is after me!"

"I see," Roadhog said, nodding his head. He got to his feet.

"And what makes you think that I won't try and get the information out of you, myself?" he asked, putting his hands on his wide hips, "Try and take this treasure from you?"

Jamison just cocked his head, eyeing him thoughtfully.

"Dunno," he said, "I just... I just get this vibe that you're OK."

"You're a very poor judge of character, son," Roadhog said bluntly.

Fawkes looked at him intently for a long time with those big, golden eyes, and then shook his head a bit.

"No," he countered, "No, I don't think I am. I trust you. Don't ask me why, I just do."

"Must be my honest face," Roadhog said dryly, pointing at the gas mask covering his features. 

Jamison burst into laughter, rocking back and forth on his bottom in the sand, and it gave Ruteledge an odd little tingle of pleasure.

"What's your name?" Fawkes asked, "My mates... well before they all died or turned on me... they called me Junkrat."

"You can call me Roadhog," the big man said.

"What do you do for a living, Mr. Hog?" Junkrat asked, picking up a rock and fiddling with it with his single hand.

"Whatever there is," Mako replied, choosing to keep his mercenary activities vague, for now at least.

"What about you? What does The Junkrat do to pay the bills?"

"I blow shit up," the blond man said proudly, lifting his chin.

"I don't understand," Roadhog said, quizzically, "In what way?"

"Really? In what way?" Jamison replied, with a toothy grin.

"I build a bomb..., I set the bomb off..., and shit blows up."

Roadhog nodded, considering the usefulness of a demolitions expert in this cutthroat country.

"And that's how you make a living?" The huge man asked, skeptically.

Jamison shrugged, lowering his eyes.

"It keeps me fed," he replied, quietly.

"Not very well," Hog said, pointing at the younger man's concave belly and visible ribs, "Here, I might have some food in my saddlebag."

He lumbered back over to the bike and opened one of the two saddlebags that lay on either side of the machine. After rummaging through for a bit, he found a stick of jerky that had been in there since God-knew-when. Mako wasn't a meat-eater himself, and he couldn't even remember where he'd picked up the jerky.

"Here," he said, handing it over to the blond Junker. 

Junkrat took it politely, nodded his thanks, and bit into it. The way he closed his eyes, breathing hard as he chewed... the way it was obvious that he was making an effort not to cram the whole stick into his mouth in one go... made Roadhog think it had been quite a long time since the boy had eaten.

"So, where do you live?" Jamison asked as he swallowed the last of the jerky, sucking his teeth.

"Nowhere," Mako said, with complete honesty.

"Cool!" the younger man said, "I've always wanted to go there, myself."

The big man couldn't help but chuckle at that, and the blond smiled, as if proud he'd made him laugh.

"Well, Mr. Roadhog," Junkrat said, getting to his feet, dusting off his tattered, patched-up britches, "I have a very profitable business arrangement to discuss with you... if you'd be interested."

He bobbed his bushy, blond eyebrows and gave a snaggle-toothed little smile.

"I'm listening," Ruteledge said, grinning behind the mask. 

He let Junkrat lay out the details of the bodyguard gig he was offering. But if he were honest with himself, Mako Ruteledge had already decided he couldn't let this little hot mess of a man-child out of his sight ever again....

"Deal?" Jamison said eagerly, hope radiant in his golden eyes as he reached out his only existing hand.

"Deal," Roadhog growled, enclosing the tiny hand in his own huge one.

"Hooly Dooly," Junkrat cackled, grinning from ear to ear, "I got me the biggest, scariest bodyguard in Australia!"

"That you do, kid," Ruteledge agreed, with a nod, "That you do."

THE END


End file.
